


Homo sapiens: subspecies unknown

by AslansCompass



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-17 00:17:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3508013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AslansCompass/pseuds/AslansCompass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not all people with powers are on the Index.  Not all mutations are monstrous. After Skye's transformation in 2X10, "What They Become," Coulson decides to seek help from one of the allies listed in Fury's toolkit: Charles Xavier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Are you sure you have everything?"  Coulson glanced around the room. The late afternoon sunlight spotlighted dust particles drifting from the top of the wardrobe to the wood floor.  A rug lay between the bed and a domed wooden chest.  "Just the one duffle and the backpack? That was really all you took?"

"I used to live out of a van; I'm used to traveling light." Skye set her laptop on the side table. "And if I need to contact you?"

"The security here is pretty high-tech. As long as you use the encrypted number, I'm not worried about anybody breaking into our data from here. We'll keep you updated--might even have you work on some files if you have the time." 

"And here I thought I was finally getting away from dark windowless rooms and hours of meaningless data. You are a hard boss, AC."  The sounds of running feet pounded past the door. "Sounds like a herd of buffalo.  I'd almost forgotten how loud a houseful of kids can be."

"I know it's not ideal, but--"

"No, it's okay.  Really, I'll be fine. I mean, I'll miss you guys, but I'll be fine." Despite herself, she shivered.  

Coulson hugged her tightly. "If  _anything_  goes wrong, call.  We'll be right out."   

Someone knocked on the door. "Suppertime, if you want any."

"Thanks, but I'd better head back. Skye?"

"Not really hungry right now. I'll come down for a sandwich or something later."

 

 

Coulson headed out to the front loop where Lola was parked. It was a long drive back to the Playground from the Xavier Institute: long and far too quite.


	2. Chapter 2

Skye stared past her open laptop at the field outside her window. Classes had finished for the day, and about two dozen preteens were playing an impromptu game of soccer.  She wasn't that familiar with the rules to begin with,  but she was pretty sure the big dog running for the goal had been a student earlier, and the shadows were being reflected in the wrong direction. 

She hadn't really talked to anyone since Coulson left three days ago: she took food from the kitchen after meals, stayed in her room or in the empty domed building at the edge of the lawns.  The Professor had said she could sit in on classes, but  that wasn't too thrilling of an offer. Not to mention that history taught by a man with metal claws might be a little bit different than she remembered.  There were enough thoughts chasing each other around her head without adding more.

The students' noise didn't bother her.  Growing up in an orphanage,  she'd learned to tune out other noises, fights and cries and yells through too-thin walls. Even on the base, she could ignore almost anything. Didn't make it easier to sleep, though.   Can't remember the last time she had a full night's sleep, without swirling images and voices in her head.  Memories of St. Agnes or the Rising Tide or a SHIELD mission: never making any sense in the morning, but leaving her jumpy until the second or third mug of coffee.  And she didn't want to talk to anybody either, because talking would lead to questions.

 Honestly, she wasn't sure what she wanted. She'd spent ten years looking for her parents; that didn't work out so hot. And as for anything else--well, working for a vigilante x-government didn't lend itself to long-term goals.  Right now, she'd settle for ....for...not being herself Because if she was just going  to wish away the powers, why not go further back? Why not wish that Trip had survived, or that they had caught Raina before she set off the device? Wish that Ward hadn't tracked them down, or that--but the further she traced that chain back, the further she felt she had to go to cast it off. 

Even in the sunlight, she felt cold. She closed the laptop and sat on the bed, pulling an extra blanket around her shoulders like a cape.  It's too big, too much...Skye drew her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around herself and pulling the blanket over her head to blot out the world. 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Skye wrung out the sleeve and held it up to the fluorescent lights. Still stained. Some of the pop had rinsed out, but there were still orange patches marring the grey knit fabric. And yes--she sniffed it--still smelled of citrus. Could be worse, but pop-as-air-fresher was something she hadn't tried even in her van days.  
"Yeah, right Bobby, sure--" A young woman with bleached bangs walked into the bathroom, still talking with a friend. "Just--I'm so sorry, I didn't expect anyone to be here."  
"No, really, it's fine, just trying to rinse out some things."  
"Didn't feel like going all the way to the laundry room?"  
"There's a laundry room?" Skye dropped the sweater in the sink. "That wasn't part of the tour."  
"New here? I'll show you. Bobby," she called. "Catch up with you later, 'kay?"  
"You really don't have to--"  
"Do you have anything else you need to wash? There's soap and dryer sheets and all that stuff provided. I'm Rogue, by the way."

"Skye."

"So what then--clouds, weather, flight?" 

The Professor had introduced Skye to most of the staff, including some individuals with rather, well,  _literal_ names. 

"You do have powers, right?"

It's alright, it's fine, everyone here... that's why she's here, to ---"Earthquakes," she blurted.

"Earthquakes," Rogue repeated. "So...either you have an odd sense of humor, or that's actually your real name."

"I never really was good at jokes." Say something, anything, change the subject. "For that matter, what sort of name is Rogue?"

"That's a long story." 


	4. Chapter 4

She ~~hadn't meant to~~ ~~acciden~~ t but now she hasn't  ~~lost control~~ caused it

She hadn't had...

not since 

Not here, at least.

At base, the way they all looked at her, like something escaped from a cage,  (everyone except Fitz, who kept looking from her to Simmons like some sort of tug-of-war). 

> "We're the ones that need protection from her."

She didn't want to hurt them,  she never wanted (maybe Ward),  but 

Control.  It's all about control. 

There's nothing about this she can--it's not her fault, she didn't chose,  _kidnapped_ remember, twice,  none of this is--

Sif-- _Sif_ \--looking at her with reverent regret but not because of anything she'd done. This woman who fought with Thor thinks she's too dangerous to live.  Whatever May told Sif, however she made it look heroic and noble,  it wasn't that way at all, it wasn't a choice, it was the only thing because she couldn't let them hurt May, not for her, May is too important, May is keeping them together and Skye was making it all worse....

Not here, not again. She won't.


	5. Chapter 5

The email is headed "could use your help with this," so she knew Coulson typed it up. May would have given the basic request in the  header,  while ~~Fitzsimmons~~ Fitz or Simmons would have used hopelessly managed acronyms with at least one three-syllable word fully typed out. She scrolled down to the actual request: tracking Hydra subordinates using the correspondence from the regional heads. And yes, the file was already on her network drive.  

Skye closed the email before she could actually read it.  Another four emails sat in the trash folder, waiting to be permanently deleted. Comfort or condemnation, she didn't know. Didn't want to.  

Fitz had actually tried to call her once; she'd almost picked it up. The phone was in her hand as the first note died away, but she couldn't bring herself to let it go through. He left a voicemail instead. "So, guess I missed you. I hope you're--that is, I miss you. _We_ miss you. Well, bye." _  
_

She'd listened to it twice, hiding under covers and bunching her hands into fists to stop herself from dialing back.

She had a job to do. Best to get on it.  

All the files were heavily encrypted, and the emails themselves were further encoded. Some had been sent using temporary servers; others were one-word messages:  "done" or "activate." These weren't Centipedes' amateurs or employees at a shell company,  but seasoned operatives used to working under the radar. 

* * *

Skye woke up with her head drooping backwards, legs creaking, half falling off the chair.  It was going to be harder than she thought. Some of these operatives were set up in a pyramid: each operative knew only the person who recruited him and the few people he recruited.  Not a bad system, overall. But it meant a lot of work. 


	6. acceleration

Skye still wasn't done with the files, but Rogue had showed up at the door with a ham sandwich and glass of milk,  suggesting and then insisting Skye take a break. "Fresh air will clear your mind."

"You sound like a mom." Skye protested, but she logged off anyway.

"My girls would agree with you," Rogue said. "But they generally say that when I'm making them do homework, not take a break."

"Your girls?" Skye asked.

"Well, you don't think the teachers run this all on their own?" They'd tried at first, but the classes were getting bigger every year. So some of the older students were appointed hall parents, kinda like RAs in colleges, or prefects in British schools.  Some things still go to the teachers anyway, but they say it's good practice for being on a team. But I'm rambling; what about you? How'd you end up here? 

"I don't really want to talk about it." Skye sat down under an oak tree. "I've just been raiding the kitchen when I get hungry, but after a while..."

"You should come to supper tonight. Chicken lo mien with homemade biscuits and fresh fruit." 

"I might have to take you up on that," Skye took a sip of milk. "Maybe I'll even sit in on some of the classes. Got any recommendations?"

"Well, don't take any phy-ed with Professor Logan unless you want to wake up with bruises on bruises, but it depends on what you're interested in.  He's good at history, though. Sometimes people try to talk him into telling war stories, but he mixes them up to see if we're paying attention--tanks in the Civil War, for example. We all have to take basic history, math, English, etc, but there's a few specialized classes for older students. Ethics is pretty boring, but we all have to take it."

"Wait--the civil war? Like, we are talking the same civil war, right? How old is this guy?"

"Hundred and fifty, maybe two hundred? He's one of the oldest mutants we know of--most weren't born until the 1950s or later.  That we know of," Rogue clarified. "Some mutations are easier to hid than others."

"Yeah,  people are pretty stubborn about ignoring the impossible until it's staring them right in the face. Even after New York, I've met people convinced that aliens don't exist. Then again, we've had enough scifi movies promise an alien invasion that it's not totally beyond most peoples' imagination." Skye looked back towards the house. Some kids were playing Lightening on the half-court, while others just hung out, chatting.  Yellow flashes of light, barely visible in the mid-afternoon light, sparked into the air from one girl. "Did you know about mutants growing up?" 

 "First thing I knew was when I kissed David. Turns out, powers to steal another person's memory or abilities are triggered by touch."

Skye winced.  "Was he..."

"He recovered."  Rogue said. "Not the best introduction to that sort of thing." 

Skye shrugged. Life had been complicated since learning her kind-of-boyfriend was an undercover Hydra agent, even if her old boyfriend hadn't sold out to a company engaged in suspicious research---which also happened to be part of Hydra.  Huh. She hadn't made that connection before.

"Did you hear something?" Rogue asked.

"Just kids, isn't it?"

"No, it's further back."

Skye motioned for silence. She dropped to the ground, scanning the woods for movement.  Nothing. Nothing she could see, at least.  But that was odd, too.  There should be birds, squirrels, maybe deer. Breath in,  breath out. Breathe in, breathe out.

Footsteps. Definitely footsteps. And staring into the woods, she could see human silhouettes, holding long rods in their hands. "Rogue," she said. "Get everyone away, get them inside." Not again. She wouldn't let them... this or them... she couldn't stop anyway, might as well...

"Can't be. There's security systems, monitors--"

"Get them inside." Skye clenched her fists.   "I won't be able to stop."  Already, she couldn't see clearly; she just wanted to hide. Get away, get away... don't don't don't---

The ground shook like a blanket yanked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've had this chapter planned pretty much since starting, but then Rogue came along. I think it's better this way, though.


	7. Chapter 7

The rest of the day went by in a jump cut of pain and medicated haze: a red-haired woman setting an instrument down in midair,  Rogue talking to the Professor,  pressure on her arm. They hadn't let her go back to her room either;  she was stuck in a white room not much bigger than the Bus's medbay. At least it had real walls. She couldn't take glass walls just yet.  At some point, Coulson arrived, stopping in briefly before excusing himself to talk to Xavier.   

What had Coulson been doing before the call came? Had he been on a mission, busy with something important?  At the same time...Skye's missed him. She's missed all of them.  Being part of a team, working together and making a difference--sure, it's cheesy and cliche, but who cares?

"Hey," Coulson poked his head around the door. "They made me promise not to peak." He set a WalMart fabric bag on the side table.   "This is all yours, apparently. May threatened me with cookies if I so much as touched anything before you did."

"Don't you mean bribed?"

"You've never had her cookies." 

Skye reached into the bag and pulled out a stack of magazines and puzzle books. "Bobbi, I'm guessing."   A can of beer. "Lance?"

"He tried."

The next package, wrapped in Sunday comic pages, was tied with two sets of strings.  Skye tugged at them with her left hand but couldn't get it off.  "Little help here?"

"Promise not to tell May?"  Coulson walked over and began fiddling with the strings. The knots were pulled tight and barely distinguishable from the coarse thread.  It took a few minutes, but he managed to slide the strings to one side. Inside was a Beanie Baby monkey with a sticky note on his chest. 

 

 

> This is Georgie. He wanted to keep you company while you've gone. He likes biscuits---fine, cookies, as you Yanks call them--and climbing things.  Don't let him get bored, or he'll make a mess. --Fitz. P.S.  I told May everything after you left.

Skye swallowed a lump in her throat.  "Coulson?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry."  She should have told him as soon as she suspected. It wasn't fair to the rest of the team. And when Sif showed up--of all the times to lose control--"I was just, it seemed easier..."

"Not to tell?  It's in the job description, somewhere. If we had any."  He sat back down. "But what happens now--that's not just your problem.  It's our problem, as a team. You're not going to make things any better by hiding." 

"I was trying to protect everyone. I haven't had any other accidents here; nobody got hurt."

Coulson shook his head.  "No."

"What do you mean, no? Rogue's okay, I saw her--"

"I'm not talking about what happened today. All those bruises on your arm were probably caused by capillary ruptures. When they took the X-rays for your arm,  there wasn't just one break.  There were dozens.  One hundred and two hairline fractures, from your clavicle down to your finger bones. As best as they can figure,  you haven't been controlling your power, just internalizing it." 

What?

"You wouldn't have known.  I can't remember all the terms they used, but it's like an allergy or a transplant--your body is responding to a threat it doesn't understand, but the treatment is more damaging than the disease."

"Is that how Simmons put it? A disease?" Mark's open distrust had been awkward; Simmons'  clinical manner was worse.

"It doesn't take a mind reader to know that you've been hiding. Or why.  I can't make you do anything, but there are people here who can help. People who know more about powers than all SHIELD combined."

"I know."  She clutched Fitz's monkey in her good hand.

"Are you hungry? I can get you something from the kitchen."

"Don't you have to rush off?" The sudden change of topics startled her.

"May can handle things for a few days." 

* * *

 

Coulson, Skye, and the Professor had lunch in the kitchen, after the students had gone back to classes.  Between the three of them, they worked out the whole story of what had happened.

Three young men had broken through the outer fences.  Drunk, with nothing particular to do, they'd decided to hunt monsters.  Professor had received the alarm, but once intruders had gotten through the fences,  they they have to be dealt with by hand. The system isn't precise enough, especially  with students outside.  Logan, Hank, and Storm were on their way when Rogue ran onto the lawn, seconds before the earthquake. 

Was anyone hurt?

A few scratches,  bruises, one twisted ankle. The house is old but it has strong foundations. Just a matter of straightening up afterwards. 

And the men?

More frightened than anything else.  Logan says they tried to run when he showed his claws, but they just kept tripping over themselves. I doubt they'll be coming back here. 

"Good." Skye took another bite of her grilled cheese.  "So what now?"

 None of the teachers have earthquake powers, but they're all used to similar situations. The mutant gene is unpredictable--they see unique powers in every group of incoming students.  Sure, there are some basic principles regarding control, ethical use of powers, but it's going to come down to hard work and personal training.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight canon divergence: the team didn't realize that Skye's suppression of her powers was breaking her bones.

**Author's Note:**

> If a mutant wasn't seen at the end of DOFP, I consider their age in the new time line open to interpretation. Most of the students will be drawn from the animated X-Men: Evolution show.


End file.
